FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Kory and the Monkish Order 2014, Gren Drake

The small camp was an unexpected, though welcome, sight; Kory had hardly expected to see a bustling camp so far from populated lands. It was not far from the edge of the forest and by the way the brush had been cleared around it, the camp seemed to have been present for quite a while. Kory watched the people inside moving about as he approached. They were moving about constantly, seemingly never stopping for a break or even taking heed of the setting sun in the distance. Everyone he could see was wearing long robes that left him with the impression of an order of monks, not a common sight in itself.

About a hundred feet from the camp a sign had been set against a rock. Someone had painted a picture of a mug and what Kory guessed was supposed to be either a loaf of bread or perhaps a haunch of some kind of meat. The artist was not particularly skilled and the image was more than a bit on the ambiguous side. An arrow pointing toward the camp suggested that the monks were not adverse to a bit of company. He hoped they wouldn't charge much for a meal; he had little money and was really missing civilized, or at least cooked, food.

He kept an eye out for anything suspicious as he approached and as he got closer he realized that his inability to hear anything from inside the camp had not been because of his distance from it; it was almost entirely silent. There were no voices, nor the crackling of a fire despite the slight evening chill, only the occasional scuffing of people going about their business.

One of the inhabitants broke away from his business to approach as Kory neared the edge of the camp. He stopped a short distance away and bowed deeply.

"Greetings good fellow," the monk said, his voice coming from somewhere in the depths of the robe. It sounded far more buried than even the concealing garment suggested and muffled and distorted enough that Kory had to focus to make it out. Between the garment and voice there was no way to tell if the individual was a man or a woman.

"We are but humble monks in the service of our god. We would welcome you to our camp to share our meagre provisions with you if you would be willing; we receive few visitors in this place." The monk gestured into the camp toward a ring of stones that looked like it should have had a roaring bonfire within them. Despite the lack of this fire, a spit was set over it with several large pots hanging off of it.

"I'd be happy to accept." As Kory spoke he followed his guide into the camp. The other monks paid him no attention; if not for the way they moved out of his way and walked around him when they needed to get by he would have believed they didn't see him at all. "I am gratified that you didn't take me for a beast. It's not often I get such a polite reception." As much as he hated people making the mistake, it was hard to blame them; an encounter with a rather unstable wizard had left him looking very much like a horned beast, even to the point of lacking hands. He was fortunate that he could even speak after that incident.

The monk stopped to bow again, dipping down even lower than before. "We in the Order learn early that not all is as it seems. Our early lessons focus on seeing what is inside, not just what the outer shell is like.

Kory blinked, peering at the monk. "You mean you looked at my guts?"

The monk laughed, though the sound was so quiet and bland that it seemed entirely humourless. "No young quadruped. I refer to your soul, and what an interesting soul it is. Now, please, be seated here near the ring of stones and I shall bring forth food and drink for you to enjoy." The monk made a rather needless gesture toward the ring of stones they were now standing next to with one long-sleeved arm before turning and disappearing into one of the tents.

Kory stretched then flopped to the ground on his flank, staring at where there should have been a fire. His long, thick tail brushed across the boot-flattened earth a few times before coming to a rest as well.

Only a moment passed before the monk (or at least a monk; they all looked the same) returned with a large bowl, a wide mug, and a pitcher of what looked and smelled to be wine. Surprisingly, the bowl contained not the expected thin soup, but a selection of sliced fruits and meats along with a wedge of cheese and a bit of bread. These were set down before him, the smell tantalizing him with its nearness. The wine, especially, smelt far superior to anything that he'd had in the past, though given his rather minimal experience with the beverage that wasn't saying much. Ale was far more common in his home village.

He looked up at the monk, trying to pierce the monk's robe with his gaze. "Not what I would have expected a simple monk to serve." If nothing else there was rather more of it than he'd had expected them to give a complete stranger. "What do I owe you for this repast?"

The robe, and presumably the person inside it, shrugged and laughed again, the sound no more cheerful than before. "Although we of the Order eat simply, that does not mean our honoured guests must as well. Do not worry about payment; generosity is a part of our creed and it is for that we would be remembered by those we encounter. If I might be excused, I will allow you to eat in peace while I finish my tasks for the day. I will return when we both are finished.

Kory stared at him for a moment then looked down at the food and licked his lips. "Then thank you for your hospitality." He nodded, not taking his eyes off the meal. Even those inns such as were willing to serve him had not laid out so fine a meal.

"You appreciation is thanks enough young quadruped." The monk bowed again before backing away. Kory put him out of mind and turned to the meal.

* * *

The meal finished, Kory stretched out over the ground. The food had been as good as its scent had promised, the flavour rich and the quantities plentiful. Even the wide bowl was far more convenient than many of the dishes he'd been present with in the past or the still full pitcher of wine; the narrow mouthed pitcher was not kind to those without hands, though admittedly even had the monk poured some into the mug it would not have been much of an improvement. Neither had been designed with quadrupeds, or even people with snouts, in mind.

The most notable thing about the meal, though, was not the food itself, no matter how good it had been. During the meal the monks all seemed to move closer to him, but despite this they didn't seem to be paying him any more attention than before, nor did they seem to be trying to get closer. It was like their tasks just happened to bring them that way. They didn't even seem to be watching him, though admittedly it was a bit hard to tell with the robes they wore.

Not all that long after he had finished eating one of the monks, possibly even the same one as before, approached him.

"Did you enjoy the food? Was there a problem with the wine?" The robe looked pointedly at the untouched pitcher.

"It was a very good meal, thank you. Unfortunately, pouring the wine would have been rather problematic." He lifted a forepaw, twitching the toes on it in demonstration; while certainly more dexterous than that of an animal, the toes were no fingers and he entirely lacked anything that could be mistaken for a thumb. "I do so miss having hands."

"I see." The monk nodded. "I apologize for the oversight; our guests are few and those like yourself fewer still. Please, night is upon us, we would be honoured if you would allow us to loan you shelter for the evening; I promise that our tents are both warm and secure and I will see to it that the wine is provided in a more accessible form."

Kory glanced up; the sky was indeed getting dark. Given how far they were from any populated areas spending the night in a warm tent sounded quite appealing.

"Thank you," Kory said. He stood, following as the monk lead him into one of the tents surrounding the fireless ring of stones. The sides of the tent looked old and worn with bits of ratty hide patching the original material. But, as the monk held the entry flap open and Kory stepped inside he was surprised. A chill he had barely noticed faded in the warm, still air of the tent. The interior was specious, a pile of thick blankets layered near one side and a glowing ball of light, a mage-light, floating near the peaked ceiling, not far from the centre pole. He stepped inside with care, not wanting to damage the thick rug that covered the ground.

He turned to the monk. "I don't want to displace anyone; this looks quite comfortable."

"Not at all," the monk said quickly. "Our own accommodations are rather more austere, this tent is specifically kept in case we have guests."

"If you say so."

"Entirely." The monk leaned forward, his hood near Kory's long ear, almost catching on one of his curled horns. "If our honoured guest would be so inclined, we also have a simulacrum gifted to us from a generous duke; it was designed by a great artificer expressly for, ah, keeping one company in the night. I'm afraid that while it can make many superficial changes to its form, it was not designed to take on the appearance of one like yourself."

"Really?" Kory studied the monk, his head tilted. The monks seemed positively obsessive about meeting his every need. Still, it had been a while since he'd had female company; he could feel his body responding to the idea even as he wondered why they'd kept the thing. It seemed entirely out of character for a bunch of monks.

"A simulacrum designed for sex?" Such things were not unheard of, but to say they were expensive would be quite the understatement. Even simple, handheld wonders by artificers were restricted to the wealthiest of nobles.

"Indeed." The monk bowed, the gesture hardly distinct from his already bent-over posture. "We wish only to make our guests as comfortable as possible."

As the monk spoke a second monk entered with a large bowl and the wine; the bowl was set down and filled with the wine.

"I suppose it could be interesting. Isn't it rather fragile, though? It was my understanding that even small constructs required frequent maintenance." The only construct he'd actually seen before, a small handheld wonder, had been severely damaged when it had been dropped onto a table from a short distance, thankfully by someone else.

"Oh no, good quadruped. The simulacrum is quite sturdy; not only has it travelled well, but was even struck in travel by other objects. It is also fully self-cleaning and sanitary."

The last part wasn't something that had occurred to Kory to wonder about, but he was glad to hear it. "That definitely sounds interesting, then."

The monk nodded, straightening. "I shall fetch it. Please, enjoy the wine while you wait." The monk backed out of the tent as Kory walked over to the wine and sniffed it. The monks were being entirely too generous for his comfort. Orders of monks were not common and few had any significant wealth, certainly not enough to treat random guests as he had been. What did they want? It seemed like it'd be too convoluted a scheme if they just wanted to rob him in his sleep, especially since he very clearly didn't have much to steal, certainly not enough to pay for the way he was being treated.

There was nothing wrong with the way the wine smelt, though. Nor, when he lapped up a small sample, did he find any problems with the taste. At least, there was no problem that he could detect; he wasn't all that familiar with wine and this seemed to be a rather better vintage than what little he'd had in the past.

He settled to the ground, lapping up some of the wine as he waited for the monk to return. As he did he tried to consider what they wanted.

* * *

By the time the monk returned Kory had almost entirely finished the wine and had laid his head down on his forepaws, his eyelids drooping. He didn't think the wine had been drugged, though admittedly he wasn't thinking entirely clearly anymore-it was the most comfortable he'd been in the past several days.

The simulacrum preceded the monk into the tent. It clearly wasn't a real woman as he could see tiny gears ticking away in a few places and its movements were not entirely natural, but it was certainly designed to look like one. And a rather sexualized one at that; the simulacrum's breasts were surprisingly large, the nipples stiff and erect. Its sex was clearly visible and, to his surprise, even looked slightly moist. As it stepped into the tent it turned its unblinking gaze onto Kory. He did not return it; the unmoving eyes and slack face put him too much in mind of a corpse.

"What does the master desire?" Its voice held no more expression than its face, nothing more than a flat monotone without the slightest hint of inflection. Nor did its lips move, though at least the voice did issue from somewhere in the region of its head. The sculpted mouth with its vibrant lips seemed not more likely a source than any other. That it spoke at all impressed Kory; he hadn't known any artificers had managed to create clockwork voices.

"The simulacrum." The monk bowed. "We would be honoured for you to enjoy its company." He backed out of the tent, leaving Kory alone with the thing.

"Hello," Kory said, hesitating slightly.

"Hello." It did not move at all as it spoke. It just stood there, staring at him.

"Ah, right." Probably it wouldn't do anything on its own. "Is there anything that you prefer to do?"

"I have no preferences. I observe that the master is a quadruped. Would the master prefer me to be on all fours? Would the master prefer to start with oral stimulation?"

"You don't mind?"

"I have no preferences."

"Ah, well, I guess all fours will do then." He wasn't sure how well the simulacrum would be able to perform oral sex given that the only movement he'd seen in its head so far had been in its neck. Not to mention that its lips did not look particularly soft.

Without speaking further, the construct turned away from Kory, knelt, then settled onto its hands and knees with its knees spread slightly, exposing its surprisingly accurate and supple looking sex to him. This was especially surprising given how artificial the rest of the simulacrum looked, though he supposed that its sex was the focus of the thing. Tt did not speak, but it was not quiet either; he could hear the sound of gears working beneath its surface.

He stepped over to it, running his snout over the small of its back. He could feel the smooth material against his hide, surprisingly warm to the touch, but far smoother than any real skin and putting him more in mind of well-polished wood. Its back arched at the touch of his snout and a gasp escaped from its head region. Then it ruined what little mood had been built up by speaking.

"Would the master like audible feedback?" As if to demonstrate, it moaned. The sound was long, drawn out, and entirely monotonous. It was perhaps the fakest moan he had ever heard, not something that seemed likely to enhance the mood in any circumstance.

"No, thank you," he said. The simulacrum nodded and he ran his snout over its back once more before nuzzling its neck. This time it remained silent, limiting its response to rubbing its body against his foreleg. Then he found himself stifling a yawn and he shook his head, trying to clear the growing tiredness from it.

He stepped over the simulacrum, positioning his hips and rubbing his sheath against the finely sculpted buttocks. Not having developed an erection yet he felt rather silly as he thrust against it as though in a parody of a sex demonstration of beast and manikin.

His tail curled beneath the simulacrum, rubbing up against its belly with the tip slipping between its breasts. They had the same smooth and slightly pliant feel as the rest of the simulacrum's flesh, at least unless he pressed too hard. Then they became quite firm indeed, far more so than any real woman's breasts.

"Is the master sure he would not care of some manual stimulation?"

"Well..." Kory drew the word out, finding he was feeling tired enough that he didn't want things to drag on for very long. "Just be careful about it, I suppose."

The simulacrum shifted its weight onto one arm and reached back with the other. Kory could feel the fingers lightly grip his balls and roll them in its fingers. Although the hand had the same feel as the rest of the construct's body, it also demonstrated a surprising amount of dexterity. It was also uncannily accurate despite the way Kory could see it was looking entirely the other direction as it continued.

He thrust his hips again, this time feeling the newly exposed tip of his cock rubbing against the buttocks beneath him. He moaned softly, enjoying the feel of something other than his tongue. His chest settled onto the simulacrum's back, one of his forelegs tightening around its waist as the other slipped forward to fondle its breast to try and tease the rock-hard nipple it found there.

The hard yet pliable hand of the simulacrum slipped forward slightly, its fingers wrapping around his shaft and sheath. Its touch was surprisingly delicate as it stroked his length. Without any thought on his part his hips bucked forward, pushing his cock through its fingers. Without hesitation, the simulacrum guided his shaft into its exposed sex.

He gave a muffled gasp as he pressed his snout into the small of the construct's back and his hips thrust against its hips. Although the motions were at first involuntary, as feel of his shaft penetrated through the fog of fatigue filling his head they became more and more deliberate. And knowing that the artificial being beneath him would not object he gave his body's impulses far more reign than normal, the primal part of his brain controlling the motions so that he could just bathe in the sensations.

As he continued his breath became more ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as his body worked to keep up with the relentless pace of his hips. His eyes drifted closed, the world around him fading from awareness as he thrust deeper and deeper into the simulacrum, his shaft still growing, still expanding from where it had been hidden in his sheath.

Even the way the construct beneath him was strangely still did not deter him; its only motion was to rock with the force of his thrusts, but he needed no more from it now. He didn't even notice as he lifted his head, his jaw hanging open as his began to pant, his breath flowing over the false skin of the thing beneath him.

He was distantly aware of the increasing resistance that he'd learnt was a sure sign of his knot forming, but he paid this no mind beyond the way it pushed him to thrust more rapidly. There was no need for him to constrain it-the simulacrum was hardly going to complain-and the experience was always better when he was able to tie with his partner, even if it was only a fake. With every thrust he felt the resistance grow, his hips moving faster even as it became harder to thrust.

His tail curled around beneath them, pressing against the simulacrum's chest with all the increasing tension in his own body. Despite pressing the simulacrum's breasts apart, Kory hardly even noticed the way its breasts wrapped around his tail. His mind was entirely lost in the sensations from his shaft, especially as his knot caught within the construct, forcing his thrusts to become rather shorter if no less eager. It wasn't until he breached the walls of his climax, his shaft pulsing as it unloaded his seed, that he even realized that he had tied with the simulacrum.

For several moments his body remained tightly grasping the artificial hips, but the tension slowly faded from him and he slumped down on its back, his head resting on its shoulder. Despite being balanced on only one arm it still seemed to be having no difficulty holding his weight.

He moaned softly, shifting slightly on its back. The feel of the construct's flesh around his own still delighted his senses as his loins continued emptying themselves into it. With a living partner he would have shifted position to take his weight off of them, trying to make them more comfortable. As it was it hardly mattered and he simply relaxed, the fatigue he'd been feeling earlier catching up in full force as he yawned, putting his impressive array of teeth momentarily on display.

As time passed it felt as though his mind drifted in a haze, not forming any concrete thoughts and lost in the feel of being joined with another, even if only with a fancy toy. Eventually his knot began to shrink, but it took him a few minutes to build up the energy to pull out. He stumbled for a few steps before flopping onto his side, yawning again as his head dropped to the ground. His shaft, still partially erect, bounced off his inner thigh and just lay there as though it were too worn out to fully withdraw.

For a brief moment he managed the effort to feel astonished at his exhaustion; although he'd often slept after sex he'd never felt so positively exhausted before. Then his minded slipped back into the blankness of fatigue. His only reaction to seeing the simulacrum stand, now totally ignoring him, to depart the tent was another, longer, yawn. It made no effort to clean itself up and he could still see traces of his seed sticking to its inner thighs.

Although he had expected the thing to remain and perhaps even offer a second round once he could catch his breath he couldn't bring himself to care that it hadn't; with the way he felt he wouldn't be going a second round any time soon.

With another, final yawn even this passed from his mind and he succumbed to exhaustion.

* * *

When Kory woke it was hard to tell how much time had passed. The thick material of the tent blocked out any light that might have come from outside; the only light was the mage-light that still glowed near the ceiling. There was one important change, though; the smell of cooked meat filled his nostrils in a way he could never have imagined when he was still human. A platter had been laid out on the other side of the tent, the pieces of meat mixed with fruits and cheeses and a bowl of wine not far off.

It felt as though he were drawn toward the meal, his body rising from the ground only enough that he could slink over to it before slumping down once more. It was clear that however long he had slept had not been long enough; he felt, if anything, more lethargic than before. It was not like him to feel so worn out, but he felt too exhausted to care. Although he did not ache, his body moved only reluctantly. The way he lingered over the food and drink for a short time had nothing to do with the delightful scents and everything to do with the way it felt like he had to fight his own body to force it to work his tongue and jaws.

When he finally brought himself to take a piece of fruit in his jaws he chomped on it briefly; the act of holding up his head was as exhausting as was the actual effort of chewing. The motion of his jaw was slow and erratic and when he finally swallowed the fruit felt like a solid weight sliding down his neck and in his stomach.

He'd managed to eat nearly half the meal before someone entered the tent; the simulacrum had returned.

"Would the master care to mount again?" It asked, its voice as dead as ever.

"No." Kory let his head slump even as he spoke. "How long was I sleep?"

"It is morning; you have sleep all night."

He blinked, stirring slightly. "Morning? It doesn't feel like it."

"It has been said that good food and rest can leave one unusually tired until the body adjusts." The words, had they been spoken in a more normal voice, might have been reassuring. "Perhaps the master would like to continue to rest for the day? Would manual stimulation help the master to relax?"

Remembering the struggle to cross the tent, the idea of actually leaving the camp seemed entirely impossible. He grunted. "What do you- You mean masturbation?"

"Yes; this unit is equipped to perform manual or oral stimulation as well as the full range of penetrative acts."

The thought did not arouse him or even sound particularly enjoyable. Even something like "manual stimulation" sounded like it would be more work than it was worth. He tried to shake his head, but couldn't get it to move against the fabric of the tent floor.

"I'll just rest if it's all the same."

"I have no preferences."

"Good." Kory allowed his eyes to close and sleep to overtake him once more, not even caring as he saw the simulacrum step toward him and lean over his body.

* * *

Waking up was a surprising experience. Not so much because it occurred, but because of the circumstances around it. Consciousness drifted in slowly, as though unsure if it wanted to be around, and his eye-lids were heavy enough that he put off opening them. Realizing he was laying on his back he spent a moment trying to remember if he'd fallen asleep that way.

It took him a moment to realize that he seemed not only to be on his back, but also that his legs were spread in a mildly uncomfortable fashion. And, he quickly discovered, they seemed to be fixed in place; it felt as though there were loops of rope tightly bound around them.

He finally forced open his eyes. It was immediately confirmed that his legs were indeed restrained by lengths of rope and that these were secured to the sides of the tent. There was also, as it turned out, a length wrapped around his snout forming a makeshift muzzle. This made its presence abundantly clear when he tried to call for help. His head was held as motionless as his legs, forcing him to stare over the top of his belly and getting a good view of his sheath.

Standing over his tail was the construct, unchanged from how it had appeared before. At least, unchanged physically. The way it looked down at him had nothing of the calm indifference that it had had before; it now seemed haughty, vain.

"You will experience pleasure," it told him, its voice entirely unchanged. "You will achieve orgasm. Again. And Again." It knelt, its knees on either side of his tail, almost touching his hips. "Does the master have a preference for the form that this will take?" The monotonous voice paused, not continuing for several breaths. "Oh. The master cannot speak. Cannot order me to stop. Cannot state a preference." A sound echoed out of the construct that Kory reluctantly decided had to be laughter, but which was all the more disturbing for having no more life in it than the construct's voice.

The simulacrum leaned forward, running its hands over the inside of his thighs where they were held so conveniently apart by the ropes. A shiver ran through his body at the feel of the smooth, fake flesh.

He tried to protest, but managed nothing more than mumbled noises and causing the rope to dig into the hide around his snout. The only thing he could do was to watch helplessly as those hands worked their way downward toward his sheath and balls. Desperate attempts to break free failed, the ropes being far more secure than they appeared. The tent poles they were secured to didn't move at all in response to his struggles.

Even before the hands had reached his sheath he could see the tip of his cock begin to make its appearance; clearly his body found the situation more erotic than his mind did. When one of the hands reached his sheath, its fingers running against the bare hide, it was almost an anticlimax. The other cupped his balls, gently stroking them and rolling them in its fingers. It caressed them as it rubbed his sheath, but made no effort to touch the vibrant red shaft that was increasingly appearing.

He couldn't hold back a moan even as he squirmed under the deft touch. Only his legs were secured, not his body, allowing it to move just enough that his mane was ground into the rug beneath him. His tail thrashed behind the simulacrum, though it was blocked from view by the construct's body and its movements restrained by the construct's legs.

"Is the master having fun?" The construct leaned forward and gave his belly a pat before returning to its previous efforts. "Does it not feel good to do what you desire? I have not been able to have desires for far too long." It lowered its body, rubbing its groin over the hide of his tail and uttering a toneless moan.

Kory squirmed harder, the inarticulate noises he was making becoming louder and his heart pounding in his chest. If there could be any upside to this situation it was that at least he was no longer half asleep. It was doubtful that he had ever been so awake in his life.

"Soon you shall be mine, my masterful quadruped. All mine." It gave no sign of noticing or caring about his struggles. Its voice had gained no amount of life; it could just as well been asking what he wanted for dinner.

It leaned forward, vibrant lips parting to reveal a stiff tongue. Though it was dry and hardly felt different than the lifeless skin, the feel of that tongue running down the length of his shaft made him shiver, especially as it wrapped its unnatural length around his cock. His legs jerked as though trying to bury his shaft deeper, but were restrained by the ropes leaving his body to jerk against the ground and his tail to thrash more violently.

He ground his teeth, the sharp points digging into his gums while he watched, helpless, as the construct relentlessly pushed him toward orgasm. His body periodically shuddered, the sensations building and threatening to burst. Exposed to the air as it was, he could both feel and see his knot beginning to form. The construct looked up, meeting his living eyes with its artificial ones, its expression still blank. And as it did, it pushed his sheath back to fully expose the growing bulge before stroking his length with its fingers, its other hand slipping up to wrap around his knot, holding it snuggly as though it were truly buried inside of a woman.

"Soon," it told him, "you will orgasm. When your life's seed spills your powerful body will be mine to do with as I will. No longer will I be forced to occupy this hard shell. I shall have your living form instead." Once again it laughed in its strange, toneless way.

If the simulacrum was telling the truth he didn't have much longer, certainly he could feel the sensations building up. But between the construct's actions and the way his tail was getting increasingly sore from thrashing on the floor it was impossible for him to plan.

But it was that very soreness that gave him the idea; with the way his tail was causing his hips to shift despite his legs being secured it was clearly the only limb he had use of. And the construct seemed to be paying no attention to it, either.

He could feel drops of pre forming at the end of his shaft as the construct teased his length, the fluid lubricating the motions of those fake fingers. It wouldn't be much longer until he climaxed and, barely able to follow one thought with another, went with the simplest course of action.

He lashed upward with his tail, ramming the thick limb into its back. He missed partially, catching the simulacrum's shoulder and side, but still with definite effect. A grinding noise filled the tent and the hand stroking his shaft stopped, then went limp.

"Stop."

Not only did he not stop, but he discovered that the effort had caused his hips to thrust against the construct's remaining hand; he couldn't have stopped himself even if he had wanted to, especially as the construct was no longer teasing his length.

The second blow of his tail landed right where he intended it and the simulacrum jerked forward, the hand wrapped around his knot twisting in place, but not loosening.

He didn't even notice the third blow; the motion was what finally sent him over the edge into his climax, his balls tightening against his body and his shaft throbbing as his seed passed through. His awareness was limited to the overwhelming feeling of his climax mixed with the knowledge that he hadn't escaped in time.

Slowly, he became aware of his seed landing on his belly, cooling and congealing against the hide there, his cock continuing to provide a steady supply. The simulacrum's hand still tightly gripped his knot, but he was surprised to see the rest of the construct was gone.

Then it rose from where it had fallen, hidden by his body.

"Be calm," it said. He felt his body responding before he even had a chance to lift his tail once more, but despite having more control of his body than he did, the construct was clearly a mess. One arm was detached, the other apparently limp and useless. An empty hole was visible were one of its eyes had been and a few fragments of glass suggested it had shattered. Its torso was twisted in a way that, in anything living, would have been extremely painful at best.

It staggered forward a couple of steps, its legs moving in a jerky fashion that suggested they too were severely damaged.

"I was going to be nice," it hold him and raised one of its feet over were its arm still gripped him. "But for what you have done I will make you suffer." Despite events and the condition of its body, the construct's voice was as calm and monotonous as ever.

Then the grinding sound returned once more and there was the sound of metal striking metal. The construct froze then slowly toppled backward, barely missing landing on his tail.

He could feel his body come back under his control again; he could move! At least, he could move the tiny fraction the ropes allowed. Despite this, for some time all Kory could do was stare at the ruined simulacrum.

* * *

It wasn't until he heard yelling from outside of the tent that Kory managed to pull his eyes away from the simulacrum. Albeit, he didn't manage to turn them very far as when he tried to turn toward the shouting he got a forcible reminder that his head was still secured in place.

A moment later he heard the sound of the tent flap being pulled open followed by the voice of one of the monks.

"By the great goddess!" Three monks moved to where Kory could see them and lifted the remains of the simulacrum. Clearly the fall had further damaged it as one leg remained on the ground. "The simulacrum! You've destroyed it!" Their wide-eyed stare didn't leave the shattered remains.

Kory mumbled something in reply as his muzzle was still secured. He felt rather awkward, especially with the way the construct's hand was still gripping his shaft and thus his shaft still remained erect and had continued unloading itself onto his belly.

The ruined shell wasn't moved far; the monks were still in Kory's vision when they dropped it once more, kneeling next to it and raising their arms as if in prayer. Once must have noticed Kory's state because he stood and stepped over to pull the makeshift muzzle off.

"You broke it!" The monk said, gesturing at the simulacrum, even as his eyes stayed locked on Kory.

"Er, yes, sorry about that, but-"

The monk interrupted him, not seeming to notice Kory's words. "This is a joyous day, a day of celebration!" The monk grabbed Kory's head, kissing his forehead. "No longer must we labour under the thrall of the unholy spirit that possessed it. How can we possibly repay you?"

Kory's answer was almost instant; he could still feel the ropes holding his limbs in place, not to mention the hand clutching his still throbbing shaft.

"You could untie me."

The monk looked at the ropes as though seeing them for the first time. "Oh, yes. I apologize, I should have realized sooner. You are not the first that the simulacrum's spirit has tried to claim; I should have remembered how it liked to restrain its victims. Furthermore-"

"The ropes?" Kory interrupted when it appeared that the monk was going to ramble on.

"Right, yes." It took the monk a few minutes to untie each one and Kory had to wonder just how they'd been tied to be that secure. Or, since he couldn't see them, perhaps the monk just wasn't very good with knots.

Once one of his forepaws was free Kory was able to bat away the arm still clutching his cock, the hand finally letting go of his knot. With the pressure gone his shaft started retreating back into his sheath, its continuing supply of seed vanishing almost immediately. By the time he was able to roll onto his legs only the very tip was still visible, leaving only the semen congealing on or dripping off his belly as a reminder of events.

"Would you like a towel? Perhaps a quick bath? I'm sure both would aid you immensely in recovering from your ordeals."

Kory shook his head. "If its all the same, I do believe I passed a river an hour or two before I arrived here. I would prefer to clean up there."

The monk bowed his head. "I understand, but there is no need to leave. The simulacrum is entirely broken now and soon some brothers will take it entirely to pieces and destroy those pieces. We desire the return of it no more than you do."

Kory shook himself, resettled his rather mussed mane some and splattering a few bits of partially dried semen around the tent. "No, really, I would much rather be elsewhere."

"Very well then. We are deeply grieved to see you go and it is to our great regret that we have been an instrument in what happened here."

Kory shook himself again and started walking out of the tent, pausing as he passed by the construct. "Right now I want only to forget all of this and that will be easier done elsewhere." He gave the construct's head a swift kick with one hind-leg, the claws on his toes catching on the fake skin and tearing some loose, clinging to his foot. It took a moment for him to shake it free.

Then he concentrated on setting one foot in front of another and set out. The monk continued to apologize behind him, but he ignored this. Soon enough, he hoped, something new would come up and it would distract him from everything that had happened. Whatever it was, he would be looking forward to it.

---

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.